The Grief of George Weasley
by Cupcakes and Accents
Summary: Grief. George Weasley has had enough of it. But just when he thinks he can take no more of the void that now rests inside him he is pleasantly surprised and all of sudden everything doesn't seem as lonely. Everyone believes what he is hearing to be a trick and nothing more, a coping mechanism. Are the things George hears real or is it just another cruel hand dealt by Grief?
1. Hearing the Impossible

George Weasley stopped, it couldn't be, his mouth was dry his heart seemed to be pounding in his stomach. He was hearing a sound he had not heard for what seemed like a lifetime, from a place that could no longer hear.

'God job you're saint like,' four words that to anyone else would mean nothing but to him meant the world. He snapped back to the cold harshness that was reality, it couldn't be it was impossible he no longer had that part of his life. Getting his hopes up wouldn't bring it – or him- back it would only cause more damage and re-open the gaping wound that was healing at a painful snail's pace.

As he stacked the selves full to the brim of puking pastilles and nosebleed nougats he could feel Ron hovering behind him. He gripped on to the packet of puking pastilles in his hand his knuckles going white. He may be upset but he didn't need a minder. George Weasley was not pathetic.

'Is there something you need?' He could hear the bitterness in his voice. But couldn't help it, that's what George was now. Bitter.

'You know I'm here to help. Mum would have a fit if she knew that all I've been doing is watching you work,' Ron replied a hint of desperation in his voice.

Help. George was sick of hearing the word. He didn't want nor did he need anyone's help. When would they realise he just wanted to be left alone?

'Want to help so much? Well here's an idea. Leave. Me. Alone. I'm a big boy now,' he said chucking the box of puking pastilles at Ron. In in his one good ear he heard the tell-tale pop which meant Ron no longer stood behind him. He hadn't meant to lose his temper so quickly but he was fed up of everyone telling him in many and various different ways that he needed help. George was on his own now and could do just fine on his own, him against the world.

Just as he finished the last of the staking George noticed something poking its head out from under the bottom of the selves. On closer inspection it revealed itself to be a wand. George twirled it in his hands and all at once it turned into a rubber chicken.

'Remember we use to drive Mum mad with those,' again he was hearing the impossible from the side of him that could not hear thanks to one greasy haired git who turned out to be a hero in disguise. He threw the wand- which was still a rubber chicken- aside, he could not hear this, and he would not hear this.


	2. The Fault of Percy the Pinhead

'Every now and then life deals us a blow that send us reeling,' this was the first thing Percy's therapist had told him and it was something that had stuck with him. His father had finally convinced him to visit a muggle therapist, through much heart ache and arguing, after the death of Fred. It was a death that Percy blamed on himself.

_A drop of sweat rolled its way leisurely down his face, disappearing before he could catch it with the back of his hand. He would have cursed but his mind was too occupied. Flashes of green and red accompanied by raised voices all shouting various incantations was the scene that he found himself in. All at once he found himself duelling with his old employer back to back with his brother who appeared to be duelling with a not so nice death eater. _

_Sending a curse at Thicknesse Percy bellowed, 'Hello Minister! Did I mention I'm resigning?'_

'_You're joking, Perce!' shouted Fred, as the Death Eater he had been battling collapsed to the ground in a heap. Fred looked at Percy with glee, 'you are actually joking Perce…I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-'_

_The air exploded. Fred collapsed, echoing the movements of the Death Eater, due to a wall of Hogwarts that had gone rouge after suffering a blast._

Percy awoke chest rising and falling at double speed. It was at night when it was hardest to keep the nightmares at bay, to stop from reeling over the blow. 'Stupid war, stupid nightmares, stupid him!' He thought his hands balling up into fists at his sides.

It was all his fault and he would never forget that. Why had he turned his back on his family? If only he had realised his childish ways sooner. It was his fault and his fault alone that Fred was dead leaving George in such a sorry state.

An older sibling was meant to look out for his younger siblings, meant to protect them, take the bullet for them. Percy had failed as an older brother in his own eyes. He had failed himself and his family. But most of all he had failed Fred.

The memory of Fred's last laugh still playing at the corners of his mouth before they went still – never to move again – would haunt Percy for as long as he lived. Unable to rest easy in bed he made his way to the bathroom. The slight that greeted him in the mirror was pitiful. Hair stuck up everywhere in clumps and large dark grey bags surrounded his eyes.

He began to try to make himself look more presentable when, in the mirror, he noticed his girlfriend Audrey stumble in clearing her eyes of sleep with the back of one of her hands. She slipped her arms around Percy's waist and rested her head on his shoulder.

'What are you doing up, more nightmares?' Audrey asked her voice containted hints of both worry and sleep.

Percy nodded not wanting to relive them even through speaking of them. Audrey kissed the back of his neck, grabbed his hand and led him back to their bedroom.

After the 'dreams' of Fred it would be superfluous to say that Percy had a rough night. He lay awake listening to the sleeping sounds of Audrey, stroking her hair as she curled into him and tried not to think about the past. However, he had no time to dwell on a rough night's sleep as the take ahead of him was coming soon. A task that left him the same nervous feelings he experienced when he had found that he had to take a 'test' to get sorted into a house. Only this time there would be no relieve, no happy or easy ending. Today Percy was going to see George for the first time since the accident.

Molly and Fleur had conducted a plan to bring George and Angelina Johnson, Fred's ex, together, in hope they could come to terms with the reality of the war and heal their wounds through supporting each other. A lunch was to happen and damned if it didn't run smoothly.


	3. The Reunion

**A/N The Brave soundtrack helped me through this chapter, I find it to be very inspiring. Thank you for reading thus far and I hope you stick with me to the end! Feel free to review, favourite and follow. **

Molly and Fleur dashed around the kitchen, nothing more than blurs to the naked eye, there was much to do but so little time to do it in. Molly never quite understood how muggles managed, here she was struggling to get everything accomplished and that was with the help of magic. There was food to make, a table to prepare and most importantly a reunion that had to run smoothly.

Angelina Johnson was the reason for all this activity, a fellow employee of Fleur's at Gringotts and Fred's first and last serious girlfriend. Molly remembered her fondly as the girl who Fred thought the world of and who played a mean game of qudditch. But now Fleur's reports confirmed that she, like George, could not deal with Fred's untimely departure. A sudden loss of weight and eyes that showed no emotion was what Angelina had become. A mothering instinct had come across Molly at this; she was determined to heal this woman and George.

Fred's death had struck everyone in the Weasley clan with an almost suffocating grief but none more so than George. He had lost apart of himself, the person he was closest to and he could not deal with this. The first few months had been agony but as the months rolled into a year and finally into five years everyone else had been able to come to terms with what had happened and started the long and painful road to be able to be happy again but not George. He was still silent, still resilient to help and still refused to speak to Percy who he blamed. Molly could not bear to see her child in such a state she had already lost one too early she could not lose another.

To say George was furious was an understatement; he couldn't believe he had been talked into attending this family get together. Percy would be there, what had he been thinking when he said yes? He could already imagine the scene that would inevitably come into play the moment the Weasley Clan gathered. George would drink himself into a stupor to block out the space next to him that should have been filled with another red-head, everyone would tip top around him scared to do anything to upset the 'precious' boy and his mother would break his heart sobbing about how she was losing him too. But still, drink on he did. He would not feel until he had to.

Everything was ready as Molly and Fleur anxiously awaited the arrival of everybody. First came Ron and Hermione with a puff of green smoke. Then came Bill and Charlie with a pop, the former went to greet Fleur with a kiss before taking a place in the living room. The whishing of brooms indicated Ginny and Harry's arrival with Arthur following closely behind them from the shed, in which he had spent the better half of the day. Angelina arrived with a timid knock on the door and was soon embraced by Molly in what can only be described as a motherly hug. Percy and Audrey made their way in. Then finally George appeared not quite certain how he arrived, due to the over eagerness to give himself a bit of Dutch courage, or why he had turned up at all.

After a lot of awkward chit-chat, of which George did not partake as he was too busy trying to avoid Percy and the apologies he would not here, bot Molly and Fleur rounded up the group and escorted them to garden where a large table had been placed for the occasion.

"You will find your designated seat marked out by a name-card. That is where you are to sit, I don't want to hear any ifs or buts out of you," Molly warned.

Everyone shuffled to the table trying to find the correct seat so as not to bring on the wrath of Mrs Weasley. Angelina took her seat wishing that she had not agreed to attend as she reached for the bottle of fire whiskey in front of her. She needed something to get her through the night.

"Mind if we share that?" A disembodied voice asked her from behind.

She turned round wanting to put a name to a face, and then gasped almost dropping the bottle.

"Looks like we'll be sitting together," The now confirmed redhead said pointing to the name-card next to hers.

The name George was spelt out an elegant black formation. Of course, how stupid could she be? It was George, who else could it have been? For a minute she had let herself get excited thinking he had returned to her but no, reality hit her to the ground making the pain she felt even more real. She nodded and poured two glasses of fire whiskey wishing even more that she had declined the invitation.


	4. The Fred Faux Pas

**A/N I'm so sorry for the lateness of this upload! I know it's been ages since I've updated and all I can do is apologise. But to make it up to you this is the longest chapter by far! Now a fair warning to you this chapter does get smuty so if you don't like don't read. Please do review, this is first time I've written anything smuty so feel free to tell me what I've done wrong or right. Thank you for taking the time to read my fanfic.**

Two bottles of Firewhiskey and a fair amount Simison Steaming Stout later, words were being slurred and lustful gazes exchanged. Molly didn't know how she felt about the two getting rosier cheeked by the minute she was already worried enough that George would become depended on drink but as long as they were getting along she supposed. And getting on they were, George and Angelina couldn't recall the last time they had felt normal again, smiling and laughing like everyone else seemed to always be doing.

George's arm wrapped itself around Angelina's shoulder and he leaned in towards her ear.

"I always wanted to tell you, when we went to Hogwarts I mean" he whispered his hot breath on her, "you were just…heavenly, seriously no other girl compared to you."

Angelina didn't know how to even begin to form a reply for this. Here was George Weasley trying to pick her up in the most cheesy of ways but she needed someone to show her a good night and if playing along with him was how she got it then so be it.

Using the courage she had built up, due to copious amounts of drink, Angelina replied, "Then how about one night in heaven?"

They landed in his bedroom, collapsing into a bundle on the floor, their arms and legs intertwined.

"I'm usually better at this," George told her, indicating the mess he had made of their side along apparition.

"I'm sure you are," Angelina replied with a smirk untangling herself from George.

She couldn't believe how easy it had been to slide out of the Weasley's unnoticed. It had begun to rain quite heavily and as the ginger clan were distracted themselves by speaking incantations, that would keep both themselves and the food safe from water damage, the young couple made their escape. Angelina shivered in her wet clothes caused by the sudden weather change they had experienced, she needed a shower. Then it came to her, shower sex. In her mind shower sex was the best kind of sex.

Slowly she peeled her wet clothes of her body, "I'm going to take a shower, to warm up, care to join me Mr Weasley?"

Now clad only in a white - almost see through – matching bra and pant set she stood in front of George, hands on her hips wearing an expression that said I dare you to say no. George felt his trousers become tighter around his crotch as he looked at the picture of beauty that stood before him.

"I'll lead the way," He replied as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Finally de-tied and shirted he took one of Angelina's hands then ushered her into his bathroom.

She barely had time to take in her surroundings before George's mouth captured hers in a fervent kiss, lips parted and tongues danced. His hands became impatient just wrapped around her waist so moved to the back of her bra and unclasped it with a not so elegant movement. Free from the confinements of her bra Angelina's breasts now swung free entrancing George.

Angelina broke off the kiss breathing heavily, she asked, "Shouldn't you turn on the shower?"

George thought upon this for a moment before turning the dial. The shower spluttered then water flowed from it splashing on the tile flooring. Soon steam was filling the bathroom. George had now lost his trousers, his erection more prominent now. He pulled Angelina towards him kissing her feverishly, his hands soon arrived at her breasts and he started to roll her nipples between his fingertips producing a moan from her.

They pulled apart again and George brought his mouth to her breasts and his tongue roomed free as Angelina kitted her hands through his tousled hair. He began to kiss down her stomach and his hands rid her of her pants. The tables turned when Angelina pulled George to his feet suddenly and removed his boxers.

"Now we're even," She whispered as she pulled him under the water with her.

Soon enough Angelina was pressed up against the glass door of the shower her legs wrapped around George's waist. The water from the shower was hitting Angelina in all the right places and when George set to work she knew it wouldn't be long before she would come to the release she craved. Their pace quickened and their breath become more erratic as they went on, a film of sweat had formed over their bodies and their moans and grunts became louder with each thrust.

"I'm so close baby," Angelina managed to pant out before she was overwhelmed, " Yes Fred!"

She quickly came down from her high upon realising what had just slipped from her mouth. She tried to from an apology but the look on George's face stopped her. The once happy go lucky features now turned dark and brooding.

"Just leave," He spoke calmly.

"I'm sorry-" Angelina began.

"I said just leave," Raising his voice slightly.

Angelina didn't know what to do she reached out to George with her hand but he shrugged her off and turned his back. She gathered her clothes and a few minutes later George heard the pop which indicated she had left the house.

He grabbed a large grey towel from the heated towel rack, his head sunk, and made his way back to his bedroom. His calm mask began to break as hot tears streamed down his face, he collapsed onto his bed.

"Well that was awkward," George heard Fred announce from the hole where his ear no longer lived.

"No!" George shouted as he pulled at his head and tried to block his ears, "You're. Not. Real!"

"Sorry to disappoint Georgie but I'm very real. In fact I'm the only real thing in your world" Fred revealed.

George brought his hands down from around his head and balled them into fists.

"You're. Lying." He whispered this time.

"What would you know?" Fred mocked, "You must be mad right? I mean you are having a conversation with your dead brother."

"SHUT UP!" George roared, lashing out and knocking the light of his bed side table.


End file.
